


I will stop this pretending and be the best that I can

by freezerjerky



Series: love of my life (you caught us off guard) [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “We? Are you implying that this would be our baby, Hermann?”“I’m implying no such thing.”“Because I’m gonna need more than a mess hall dinner to convince me to have a baby with anyone,” Newt teases. Flirts, if Hermann is honest with himself, but he rarely is these days.“I shudder to know what sort of human would willingly have a child with you.”In which Hermann and Newt, four months fresh into a new relationship, find themselves raising a child.





	I will stop this pretending and be the best that I can

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow kid fic happened? This is at the prompting of [Alexis](http://archiveofourown.org/seeingrightly) to who I give much thanks for help with the world building of this 'verse. I suspect there will be more stories to be had here.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr @ [pendragoff](http://pendragoff.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please note that I am not an expert on the process of guardianship/adoption, so if there are any inconsistencies, I apologize!

Stepping out of the lab for even half an hour seemed risky enough. Hermann knows full well that Newt has the attention span of a very excited five year old and can easily forget about important things. This was an issue under normal circumstances, but an even greater issue when the “thing” was not a thing at all but the child of one of Hermann’s oldest, or rather only, friends. Who was left in the very capable hands of Hermann himself for just a few days while her father attended a conference in Hong Kong. It just so happens that leaving something in the care of Hermann meant leaving it in the care of Newt as well.

Surely, nothing could go wrong in just a long weekend. It may even be a welcome break from trying to calculate just how soon the world would likely be ending. Or the stress of being one of the last two remaining K Science staff in the entire PPDC. Or the even deeper stress of who the other staff member was and exactly what it meant to share a lab with such an infuriating man.

Hermann stops in the entryway of the lab, observing for a moment. Newt’s back is turned to him and he’s talking in hushed tones. It’s not quite baby talk, but they’ve definitely agreed to talk to the baby as though she was an adult. (Allegedly it’s better for the development of language skills.) While something about it makes Hermann’s heart hurt in an acutely good way, he has to push the feeling away for the sake of both adhering to rules and for not allowing the soft feelings he may or may not cherish for the other man bubble to the surface. A distraction of a weekend is fine, but he cannot allow anything further in his life.

“Newton, we had agreed on the matter of how to speak in the presence of the baby while she’s here,” he explains, stepping forward.

“It’s a baby, Hermann,” Newt mutters from his workspace. “She’s gonna learn to speak just fine.”

Hermann has stepped forward just enough to peer at aforementioned baby. He’s very pointedly set up a space (on his side of the lab) with clearly marked lines around the playpen and anything else the child may need to keep them from a Newtonian contamination. He starts to panic, but only internally, when there is decidedly not a baby where he’d left her.

“Do you care to explain to me where Frankie is?” Hermann asks, only refraining from shouting because there’s a baby in the room. Probably.

Newt turns around rather dramatically. “Bam! Right here.” He’s got the baby strapped to his chest in a carrier. “Dude, this is the coolest baby I’ve ever met.” He’s also got a vial of suspect looking chemicals in one of his hands, which immediately sets off about twenty different alarm bells in Hermann’s head.

“Absolutely not,” Hermann nearly growls, marching up to Newt to carefully but firmly extract Frankie from him. “You can’t have a baby this close to chemicals! Or repulsive kaiju guts.”

“I know that, obviously, Hermann. There’s nothing bad for the baby here.” Newt steps back, feeling defensive. “Everything here is body and baby safe and she likes watching.”

“She’s four months old, she likes watching anything, that doesn’t mean she should. Now give me the child.”

“I’ve got this under control.” Newt very carefully places down the vial on his workspace.

“You are not the person in charge of the child. Now, please unhand her before there are consequences.”

“What’re you going to do, file another report on me? You’re the one who brought a baby into the lab.”

“There is absolutely nothing in policy against having an infant in the Shatterdome.” Even if there was, no one would realize, as Shatterdome after Shatterdome closes and the walls close in. Anyone who’s willing to stay can stay, assuming they’re not proven a risk to themselves or others.

For a moment it looks like Newt will press the issue, but instead he stands very still so that Hermann can carefully extract Frankie and take her in his arms. Hermann, rather slyly, presses a kiss to the top of the baby’s head.

“There was nothing involved in my work that could have hurt a baby,” Newt defends. Because of course it seems highly unlikely he can keep himself from fighting with Hermann.

“I had asked you very pointedly to monitor her while I was in my meeting. All that required was feeding her if she was hungry or changing a soiled nappy as needed,” Hermann says through gritted teeth. If nothing else, the presence of Frankie means they will not likely start to shout.

“I was monitoring her, it’s easy to keep an eye on her if she’s not over there by all your rancid chalk dust.”

Newt rather dramatically removes the carrier, placing it on a clean spot on his workspace. Hermann really shouldn’t try to push his buttons any further, but he takes some odd delight in it. If he can’t make Newt happy, he’ll settle for making him very cross. Besides, with his cane it’s much easier if he has both hands free while carrying the baby.

Most of the rest of the afternoon is spent with Newt shooting dirty looks across the lab as Hermann moves about with Frankie attached to him. It’s not the most conducive situation for working, as Hermann cannot climb the ladder with such precious cargo, but it’s better than checking every fifteen minutes that Newt has not placed the baby in immediate danger. This is, admittedly, an unfair assessment. He’s sure that Newt would not intentionally endanger anyone else, let alone a very small child. But this is his own personal responsibility, not an amusement for an idle afternoon.

“You look ridiculous like that,” Newt comments at length.

Hermann generally doesn’t care how he looks, even if he’s got chalk on his face and a sleeping baby attached to his front. Besides, there’s not enough edge to Newt’s comment for him to actually mean it.

“I couldn’t risk you absconding with the child while my back was turned.”

“First of all, the moment I leave this room with a baby, someone’s going to stop me,” Newt explains, snapping off his gloves. He’s cleaning up his side of the lab for the evening. “ Second of all, I’m not going to do anything that isn’t in the kid’s best interest.”

“You had her on your side of the lab, which is enough of a hazard that adults should not be there.”

“I’m more than capable of watching after a child,” he defends. 

Rather than give a verbal answer, Hermann sighs and carefully extracts Frankie from the carrier. He gingerly places her into the stroller her father had provided. Pushing around a baby is unfortunately not the oddest thing Hermann’s done during his time working for the PPDC, but it is one of the strangest that is of his choice.

“If you would like, Newton, you may join us for dinner.”

“Can I push the baby?” Newt asks.

“Yes, you may push the baby, but the moment she’s in any danger you lose all privileges.”

“It’s cool, I’ve got this. After this weekend, I’m gonna be confident enough to go out and adopt a kid of my own.”

Despite the fact that he knows deep down that Newt is joking, Hermann pales and must take on a look of horror, because Newt outright laughs in his face before taking control of the stroller, pushing it towards the exit.

“We cannot have a child in this lab full time,” Hermann states coolly, playing it off.

“We? Are you implying that this would be  _ our  _ baby, Hermann?”

“I’m implying no such thing.”

“Because I’m gonna need more than a mess hall dinner to convince me to have a baby with anyone,” Newt teases. Flirts, if Hermann is honest with himself, but he rarely is these days.

“I shudder to know what sort of human would willingly have a child with you.”

“Frankie thinks I’d make a great dad, and she’s sort of an expert on this baby thing.”

Hermann lets him have this small victory because, as annoying as Newt is, there’s something endearing about this determination to be capable of raising a child. Sometimes, especially in times like these, Hermann will remember that he’s of the age where he should be seriously thinking about family. Arguably, he’s past that age and, unless this war miraculously wins itself soon, will let it continue to slip past.

After all, he muses as he catches a glimpse of Newt blowing a raspberry at the dinner table for no reason but to accentuate his baby talk, there are other things he’ll regret far more when he inevitably lets them slip between his fingers.

 

_ One year later _

Hermann stares blankly ahead at the wall, counting the minutes as they pass him by but not really processing what the passage of time means. He’s been waiting for seven minutes now in this dark paneled room. When he hears footsteps, he turns to see Newt, freshly returned from the toilet. Newt slides into the seat beside him, the other of a set of uncomfortable chairs upholstered with something similar to burlap. He reaches for Newt’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he takes it. These little luxuries still feel new and delicate, but he’s becoming more used to them by the day.

“You look very handsome in your suit, Newton.”

“You’re only saying that because you tied my tie this morning. How are you holding up?”

“It seems foolish that tragedy still occurs after all the work we put into saving the world,” he answers, deflecting from anything about his own personal feelings. “I’ve forgotten what normal, human grief feels like. Or rather I don’t think I’ve ever been given the chance to feel it.”

“Well dude, it sucks.” 

That seems like such an inarticulate word to explain how it feels knowing that one of Hermann’s few close friends has died. That he’s not returning and that this is not the result of something he, or anyone else, could have fought against. Not directly, at least. Humanity seems even more fragile than it had when they were at war.

“You’re going to have to be more careful about your language,” Hermann warns.

“Sucks is not a bad word. It’s a neutral word. If I had known you were going to enforce this I’d have gotten every single fuck-”

The door opens then and a woman steps in. She’s holding a rather grumpy and confused looking toddler. Hermann and Newt rise in unison. Admittedly, nothing could have compared either of them for this particular moment. Hermann’s not sure if Newt’s anxiety is palpable because of their connection or because it radiates across the room.

“She’s gotten so big,” Newt exclaims, because he never seems to be able to embrace the silence of any moment in his life.

For the first few moments, Hermann debates running away. Or excusing himself to the toilet to vomit. Or just letting them pass the baby off to Newt. But that’s not the arrangement, is it? This is his ward, his responsibility. When he’d agreed, so fresh after the war, to be a godfather, he had thought of it as a formality. In those first few weeks, everyone still alive was immortal. Now the reality has come crushing on him in full force. Instead, he reaches out for Frankie, almost instinctively, to brush a finger against the girl’s cheek. She presses her face into the woman’s neck, more bashful than anything else.

“You will be coming to live with me,” he explains. He knows, objectively, that at her age, she will not fully understand this. “We’ll have all of your favorite things for you and we’ll take care of you like your father did. You definitely do not remember either of us, but I hope we will be very good friends.”

Frankie thrusts out her arm, pointing directly at Hermann as though this can convey anything. He doesn’t understand what the gesture could mean, but his heart swells anyway.

 

The spare room that they’ve set up as a nursery had originally been Newt’s room. Newt never needed his own room in their new apartment, but at the time it seemed paramount that they were each given their own space. It was a liberty after so many years in a shared lab and cramped quarters to have a proper bedroom in a proper apartment to oneself. If he hadn’t been given his own space, he would have complained, but because he was, it probably made him all the more eager to crawl into Hermann’s bed at 3 am the first time he tried to sleep in his own bed.

There’s only a crib and a changing table in it at the moment, two items hastily bought in anticipation of Frankie’s arrival. The rest of the room is taken up by the useless bed shoved against a wall. Frankie doesn’t seem to mind, as she sleeps easily in the crib. It’s both heartbreaking and relieving to see the spirit of a small child in action. Eventually they will have to buy real furniture and make it look like a proper room, but judging by the haphazard nature of the rest of the apartment, almost four months into living there, it will never be aesthetically eye catching. Hermann switches on the monitor, tests just a brief moment by holding his own to his ear that he can hear, and steps out of the room. He will not become one of those anxious parents that cannot be parted from a child.

Newt’s in the living room, freshly showered, and reading. Or rather pretending to read and instead focusing on the television playing in the background. Hermann’s used to being privy to this level of domestic quietude, what he’s less used to is the fact that he can move to the couch beside Newt and sit as close as he likes. So he does. He props his foot up on the coffee table and leans against Newt, sneaking a look at his book. Unsurprisingly, it’s a child development book. Newt has powered his way through several just in the past few days, looking desperately for answers that Hermann suspects no book can give him.

“It pains me to say this when you’re actually reading something worthwhile, but you need to relax, Newton.”

“I am relaxed, bud. Got some bad history show on TV, reading a very engaging book, and if I play my cards right, I think I might get laid tonight.”

Hermann snorts and presses his face against Newt’s shoulder. “You never play your cards right.”

“And yet…”

“I suppose we had better resolve our more adventurous desires before there’s a fully mobile small child running around the apartment. So if anything occurs tonight, it’s for my sake more than yours, of course.”

“I really don’t care whose sake it’s for.” Newt closes his book and places it on the coffee table.

In a way it’s a tragedy, Hermann thinks, that they did not have a chance to dwell in the delicate paradise of their life together alone for long. This thing that had started as a longing look after a night of drinking cheap vodka to celebrate saving the world, of soft and strange and new touches shared as they filed their final reports and helped shape the future of the organization they’d both sworn to dedicate their lives to. They’d only put a label on the thing between them because it became apparent the PPDC, while wanting to retain them as employees, did not quite know where anyone would be placed in the years of restructuring. They both opted for a sabbatical, a year long honeymoon of sorts, to do research at their leisure. A sample into a potential option: domestic bliss.

Newt, in his usual fashion, guarantees Hermann cannot get too caught up in his thoughts by providing distraction. This distraction is a trail of soft kisses along the shell of his ear, then teasingly down the neck, so naturally it’s more than welcome. He’s closed his eyes in pleasure when the whining comes softly over the baby monitor. Newt’s head immediately snaps up in concern.

“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” Hermann says, before Newt can move to act. He grabs his cane and stands. Nonetheless, Newt is at his heels when he enters the bedroom.

Frankie is sitting up in the bed, looking rather anguished as she reaches up to be held. Hermann bends over to lift her, gently taking her in his arms.

“The book says-” Newt begins, before he’s cut off with a very stern look.

“I do not care what the book says. This is a child whose life has been thrown in chaos.”

“Alright.” Newt holds up a hand, a symbol of surrender. “Can I help?”

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Trouble me? It’s more than fine.”

“I’ll just read her another story and then I’ll be back to the living room.”

“I want to be a part of this.”

Hermann pauses for a moment, taking in Newt’s appearance which looks more helpless than it probably should. This is a matter for after this problem is solved, but he’ll address it nonetheless.

“It’ll be just a few minutes darling, I promise.”

“Sure. If you need me just...shout.”

The hesitation is obvious as Newt shuffles out of the room, but he does it regardless. For a very selfish moment Hermann’s fearful that this new development will cost him his relationship, but this isn’t fair to the child who needs him. So he relives the process of tucking Frankie in before he rejoins Newt in the living room and prays for everyone’s sake she sleeps through the rest of the night.

Once again Newt is intent on reading his book, but his expression is not as easy as it was. He looks stressed and he’s more or less curled up on the couch this time. The lines of his body are on the defense, but Hermann is determined and so he sits immediately beside him anyway.

“Newton, you don’t have to read those books if you don’t want to, and you don’t have to follow me to the nursery when she cries,” he explains.

“Dude.” Newt all but slams the book shut, looking suddenly alarmed. “I want to read these books and I want to follow you to the nursery.”

“I’m aware that you have not had a say in the matter. In fact, I didn’t properly consult you when agreeing-”

“I get it. I understand if you want this to be a you thing, but that’s not how I’m seeing it. I want to do this together, but I know it’s your call. She’s your...well I guess your kid, huh?”

“Technically I suppose that’s correct. I am her legal guardian. And I’m starting to realize that even if I wanted to, I simply could not have you separate of having a child to care for now.”

“I’m assuming,” Newt begins, looking a bit nervous, “this is your way of saying that you want to raise a kid with me?”

“Oh, God.” Hermann buries his face in his hands, but laughs. “Imagine telling me a few years ago that this is where my life would be.”

“I’d have been fucking excited, to be honest.” He pauses for just a moment. “Sorry. I’d have been fricking excited,” he corrects minimally, gently taking hold of Hermann’s wrists to move his hands from his face. “I love kids.”

“Because you are a giant child.” Hermann smiles at him, and cannot resist leaning in to kiss him. “Now where were we?”

Newt very happily shows him exactly what they had begun to do previously and then, for good measure, follows through with every delightful next step.

 

The first time he leaves Frankie alone with Newt, Hermann is expecting a disaster. Uncharacteristically, Newt is best with her when everything is by the books. It’s improvising that chokes him up, like he suddenly doesn’t know what to do in the face of an injury or disappointment. Hermann understands these cues, to kiss a bruised knee or to console and not coddle, possibly because he was raised with other children, or possibly because he’s chosen a partner in life who is prone to emotional outbursts. That’s not a fair assessment, of course. He does not have to raise Newt in any capacity. Hermann wonders often if instead of anything else, this was a part of them that has bled between them in the drift, that in any other situation, he’d be the one reading the books looking for every single right answer. That certainly feels in character enough for him.

There is no disaster, though, but the two of them sitting across from each other on the floor of the living room as Newt sings a very bad rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”, attempting to mime along. Frankie awkwardly tries to replicate the hand gestures to no avail.

“Have you both eaten lunch?” Hermann asks, immediately walking into the kitchen partially to conceal the grin on his face. This sort of happiness seems so foreign that he doesn’t know how to wear it around other people.

“Two hours ago. We had pasta and some strawberries and only one of us spilled everywhere,” Newt answers, rising to his feet. Frankie, following his example, stands as well, following him closely as he steps into the kitchen.

“Let me guess, it was you.”

“Correct.” He points rather sheepishly to the red stain on his shirt. “Other than that, everything went great. We watched a movie, played some games. She’s about to go down for her nap.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Hermann’s mouth. 

Hermann feels the lightest tug on his trousers and smiles down at Frankie, who is immediately insistent that she’s held. Today is not the best day for his leg, or for anything, and he looks to Newt, who wordlessly does the work of lifting Frankie.

“Let’s give Dad some time to relax, hmm?” 

“Perhaps we could all relax,” Hermann adds. “I would not be opposed to a nap myself.”

“Old man,” Newt teases, but it has no edge. “I suppose if you don’t see anything wrong with it, we can all nap in the big bed today.”

The big bed had been a hot debate topic, because some nights Frankie did not rest so easily and it would be easier to bring her to the master bedroom. Newt had insisted that his development books referenced the importance of setting boundaries and Hermann had an odd sense of what it might be like to deal with someone as stubborn himself for so many years. Hermann, on the contrary, had developed a soft streak a mile wide and could be perhaps a bit indulgent in these moments. It is hard to articulate the thought of “I don’t want this child to have a childhood like my own” but thankfully with a partner who has literally been inside his head, he doesn’t need to explain himself very often on these matters.

“You know I do not have an issue with it. Just give me a few moments, alright?”

By the time, only a few minutes later, that he arrives in the bedroom, Newt’s lying on his back with Frankie nestled by his side. She’s sleeping soundly, but he cracks open an eye to peer over at Hermann.

“I love you,” Hermann mouths, because it feels like the right thing to do in that moment, and it’s certainly what he feels.

Newt pats the empty side of the bed and he happily joins him, carefully maneuvering himself so that the mattress does not shift. He rests his head on Newt’s chest and a hand on his stomach. This is such a strange feeling of completeness, because it is not something he anticipated. The thought settles in very easily that this is what it feels like to be a family. 

“We’ve got a dirty diaper here,” Newt says, startling Hermann out of his sleep.

“You’re capable of changing it.” Hermann sits up and rubs his bleary eyes. He’s not sure how long he’d been asleep, but it doesn’t feel long enough.

“I didn’t want to abruptly wake you.” Newt carefully nudges Frankie, and she stirs.

“No,” she says, making a very grumpy face.

“Yes,” he responds.

She protests again, but Newt stands and scoops her up, carrying her off to her own room for a changing. Hermann lays back in bed to listen to the rather one-sided conversation from the other room, consisting partly of Newt improvising a song about the importance of changing diapers. It’s only a few minutes later that Frankie runs back into the room, Newt quick on her heels.

“Hi Da,” she says, peering over the side of the bed. “Up?”

“Yes, you may come back up onto the bed.” Hermann sits up and leans over and carefully lifts her and situates her in his lap. He rolls his eyes when he catches sight of Newt snapping a photograph.

“You wanna chronicle this shi- stuff, dude,” Newt comments before moving back onto the bed. “One day she’s gonna be eighteen and you’re going to regret all of the photos you did not take. Besides, look at this.” He thrusts the phone in Hermann’s face. “That’s adorable. That’s the type of man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Frankie, ever curious, reaches up for the phone, which Newt passes on to her. Delighted with the photo, she points out both herself and “da” and then coos over them. Newt’s charmed for a few moments more, until she starts to swipe and he very abruptly has to pull the phone away. This backfires and within moments she’s crying and reaching for the phone that she’s been deprived of.

“Do I want to know what you have photos of that she cannot see?” Hermann mutters, collecting her to his chest and rocking gently. The tears fade quickly enough, though.

“Would you be more mad if I said kaiju guts or nude photos?” He spells out the words kaiju and nude as a precaution.

“Of whom?”

“Myself, obviously. They were for you but I forgot to send them earlier. Anyway- it’s both. Guts and nudes.”

“Of course it is, Newton. In the future, please keep those in a place where our child cannot access them.”

The look on Newt’s face is a confusing one, a large smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but still an earnest one at that. Frankie wriggles out of Hermann’s arms before he can say anything about it. 

 

“Do you ever worry about when the day comes when we can’t listen on the monitor anymore?” Newt asks into the dark one night.

All the efforts to domesticate Newt cannot make him keep a normal sleep schedule. Hermann had just drifted off himself when he was awoken by the question. 

“And when do your books tell you that will be?” Hermann asks, rolling onto his side.

“Inconclusive. I just don’t want to be one of those parents who uses it as an excuse to spy.”

“I think most parents stop around two years of age.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s the right age,” Newt defends, turning on his side to face Hermann, even if they’re both cloaked in the dark.

“Have you ever considered that we’ll know when it’s the right age for her? You’re a very intuitive man, surely you can trust your own intuition every now and then.”

“How are you so calm about this? You’re Mr. Analyzer about literally everything in life-”

“First of all, that’s Dr. Analyzer. Second, I grew up in a home with a father who felt the need to schedule every moment of his children’s lives. I don’t want to enforce that for any child.”

There are some deeper issues he wants to contend with some day in regards to his own upbringing, but he’s taking small steps.

“I just want to do this right,” Newt admits. “I want to earn the right to do this with you and to be a family and to-”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” Hermann sits up and switches on his bedside light. “Is that what this has been about?”

“I suppose, to a degree.” Newt sits up likewise, instinctively leaning against Hermann. “I was so worried you wouldn’t think I was responsible enough for this, and I don’t really have a claim to Frankie anyway.”

“You are correct, I suppose, in that regard. Legally she is not yours.” And that feels wrong in some strange way, that someone being legally connected to Hermann does not also make them connected to Newt. “But that doesn’t mean I’m her parent and you’re my partner. Because you being my partner means that we do this together.”

“We’re a family.”

“We are. Odd as that may seem.”

The sweetness of the moment is broken by Newt’s hand wandering beneath the waistband of Hermann’s sleep bottoms.

“Are you serious? We were having a very emotional moment.” Hermann shoots him a glance but also definitely does not discourage him.

“I don’t know how to say this articulately babe but I’m sort of turned on by you being emotionally open. Like not when you’re sad obviously, but it used to be all about you being mean to me and now I’ve turned into a-”

Hermann cuts him off with a hard kiss. Because he can’t take for granted the relationship he has regardless of anything else. Because he’s still a man who has so recently found the love he’s been pining away for for so long. And because he knows if he kisses Newt, the wayward hand will wander further down and that seems very appealing at the moment.

 

Deciding what to do for a second birthday can be very tricky. Hermann starts with some grand schemes like a bored housewife and then scales them down until he agrees to take her to a park during the day and then come home for family dinner and presents in the evening.

After settling into domestic life, they both agreed that not working does not suit them, so the agreement was that for the first year, Newt would work one half of the year while Hermann did research and then they’d switch off for the next half, before they both returned to work full time. In addition, they have to remember that they’re on retainer for contract work through the PPDC and may have to travel at a moment’s notice. Hermann will never admit that part of him hopes one day to return to a Shatterdome, but that’s future talk. They’ll discuss that topic after Frankie’s old enough to go to school, because a toddler really is a lab hazard.

When he steps into the apartment with a knee scraped but very happy child in tow, he’s immediately greeted by the sound of a confetti popper and the flurry of ensuing paper madness. It’s just a moment, but Frankie eagerly tries to catch it as it flies through the air. When it settles, Hermann’s met with the vision of a very smug looking Newt standing in the living room.

“What has your father done?” Hermann asks, and it’s more or less a rhetorical question. One he asks more often than he cares to admit to.

“Silly,” Frankie answers, and shakes her head.

“It’s her birthday, babe.” Newt picks Frankie up and spins her a few times for good measure. “Did you enjoy your afternoon at the park?”

Instead of answering, she devolves into a fit of giggles and that seems like a sufficient enough answer. When Newt finally stops, holding her carefully, he brushes a piece of confetti out of Hermann’s hair. “Don’t be grumpy.”

“Just promise me you’ll clean this up.” Hermann taps his cane on the floor and then prods at some of the confetti. 

The confetti is definitely not cleaned up that night. They have the family dinner as planned, and some cake. Afterwards, Frankie takes a bath because of the cake, and they watch a movie of her choosing before bedtime. With Frankie gently sleeping, neither of them have the energy to bother cleaning the dinner dishes or the confetti mess in the living room. Instead, they end the night as they end many nights, half asleep in a heap on the couch.

“I think it’s time we move forward with the official adoption,” Hermann says at length.

“We?”

“Well, originally I had intended to do it alone. Initially. Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated, but I know that’s not the case now.”

“I’m going to be a real, bona fide dad,” Newt muses. “That’s really fucking awesome. And weird.”

“I like to hope you are already. Regardless of what papers say, we do have a daughter. But I want this to be a...natural process. I don’t want to feel forced to get married for the sake of adoption, or to feel like we have to feel settled in our relationship. I want to continue to work out what life works best for us.”

“Yeah, that’s totally alright with me. I mean, we could get married someday, I don’t mind. But not yet.”

Hermann smiles softly. “Someday, yes.”

“And then maybe two or three more kids?”

“Absolutely not, Newton.” 

“Mhm,” Newt hums, and in his usual fashion, he starts to kiss along Hermann’s neck, as though that would convince him to change his mind. Perhaps in time, if Newt continues to play his cards right, it will.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is for "Fears of a Father" by Ed Harcourt


End file.
